


Misery Loves Company

by CGotAnAccount



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bromance, Emphasis on the Bro, Katt - Freeform, M/M, Matt is feeling petty, Pining Matt, Shiro needs a kick, frat AU, pining Sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: The third piss-warm beer of the night goes down easy as Matt tips his head back and looks at the sky.





	Misery Loves Company

The third piss-warm beer of the night goes down easy as Matt tips his head back and looks at the sky. It's a disappointing blur of stars drowned out by the city's light pollution, but it's a whole lot better than going back inside to watch the girl of his dreams giggle at someone else all night. If he could manage to leave a party at his own house without catching hell he'd be long gone, drowning his sorrows at the lab with Pidge on Skype, but that would mean leaving Shiro all alone with the frat activities to run... not that he's helping much where he is.

His sigh, long and loud, feels like it should echo around the patio, but he barely hears it himself over the bass thumping through the sliding door behind him. A finger idly traces the rim of the bottle as he contemplates the repercussions of staying out here all night. Shiro would understand of course, he was made president for a reason – always ready to take charge and do his very best to make sure everyone is having a good time... he wouldn't begrudge Matt's vanishing act for one second if he explained himself. Still, it wouldn't look good for him to duck out on his duties completely. Even now he's pushing his luck, out here for quite some time and not even having the decency to pretend to be smoking.

Idly tapping his nails on the side of the bottle, he closes his eyes and cracks his neck, settling his chin on his knees as he brings them up to his chest. The night isn't even particularly warm or conducive to sitting and there's a growing dampness to the air that sets a chill to his skin. Still, it's better than being inside and watching pretty robotics major girl make eyes at that pothead in their class. He can feel his face pulling into a scowl involuntarily just thinking about it. She's so smart, mind like a supercomputer, and that guy is just... ugh. He probably doesn't even get her brilliant puns like Matt does.

The bottle is empty save for a few droplets when he tries to toss back another mouthful, unsure if the bitter dregs are from the beer or his disappointment. The thought of going back inside just to get another one and hide away again is tempting, but the chance of finding dream girl in a corner with Don Juan makes his stomach roll.

Twirling the bottle lazily between his fingers, Matt waffles back and forth between undesirable choices, so lost in thought he nearly drops the bottle when the door slides open with a screech.

“Ugh. Need to oil that.” Keith's voice floats behind him, relaxing his shoulders from where they'd climbed to his ears. He twists in his seat to see him crouched and poking at the track to the door with one hand, two bottles hooked in the other.

“You are a saint.”

Keith looks up at his voice, eyes crinkling as he wiggles the bottles in Matt's direction.

“You looked like you could use another, and maybe a friend.”

Another grumbling sigh escapes Matt's mouth as he slides deeper into his chair.

“I don't know what she sees in him.”

Keith drags another rickety lawn chair over flush to Matt's own and plops down, handing one beer over as he throws an arm around Matt's shoulders and tugs him in tight.

“Well for starters, she's drunk.” Matt scowls at him as he takes the beer and goes easily into the hug. He's a good drunken option too. Keith can apparently read minds, because he reaches over and smooths the furrow between Matt's eyes with a knuckle. “Drunk people usually fixate on whoever hits them up first, right?”

Matt shrugs, nodding as he takes a swig of the new beer. “I guess so, but...”

“Then it's nothing personal, right?” Keith continues right on over him, squeezing the arm around his shoulders tighter and dropping his head to rest against Matt's own. “It just means I'm the one lucky enough to catch you first.”

Matt huffs a laugh into his beer and knocks their temples together, half nuzzling into Keith's hair.

“You never need to catch me, dude.” He can't help the smile that creeps onto his face as Keith wrinkles his nose and rubs back. Their long hair tangles together with the friction, Matt's loose ponytail spilling over his shoulder to cover Keith's messy braid, but neither of them mind on a night like this.

This comfortable familiarity hadn't come easily to either of them, both expecting the other to be some weird meaty bro that couldn't count beyond their designated number of reps, but Shiro had insisted they would get along great and neither one of them could ever say no to him. The first few weeks of stilted conversation had given way to a shared disdain for most other people and a teasing friendship filled with long nights studying in Shiro's presidential suite. Of course, the physical comfort they took in each other had come more slowly - first as nights slumped over each other with textbooks sprawled between them, then as joking tugs on the ends of ponytails that evolved into hands fisted into hair, directing heated kisses. Matt almost wishes he could say that alcohol was involved the first time it happened just to have an excuse, but in reality it was just shared loneliness and a pretty friend willing to ease the sting of love that was out of reach.

Honestly, that's what made them work more than the comfort of a warm body - Keith was the comfort of someone who understood, someone who would stand by with a beer and a hug but then turn right around and shove his ass in the pool if he was moping too hard. A small part of him was grateful that Shiro was such a blind dumbass, oblivious to the guy who was so ride or die for his ass that he would rather be a great friend than press his luck. Shiro's loss meant he had someone he could lean on... but the larger part of him wants to bash Shiro's skull in for the nights he's seen Keith drink himself into a teary stupor after watching Shiro trade tipsy kisses with some random guy in the hall. It's almost like a cosmic joke - if he could dredge up even one ounce of love like that for Keith he'd never go a single day without letting him know it... but he can't, so their relationship remains firmly in the brojobs realm where they can safely drink and fondle away their sorrows together.

Nights like this only make him wish a little harder that they weren't so hopelessly gone for other people. The arm wrapped around him is heavy and warm and Keith's spicy smell saturates the hoodie pressed against him, filling the air with a comforting distraction. He sighs again and brings the bottle to his lips, taking a sip and settling it onto the table with a clink.

“You think it's ever gonna get easier?”

He feels Keith's thoughtful hum as much as he hears it, vibrating through the body nestled against his own. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Keith lift his own bottle and he twists his head enough to watch the bob of his throat as he swallows down the lukewarm beer. Those pretty eyes are unusually pensive as they stare down at him, and Matt knows that his face must be especially pathetic if Keith doesn't resort to the usual playful teasing.

“Well...” Keith's mouth twists as he pauses and his eyes flick away to search the sky for the right words. “I think that eventually it's gotta sting less, right?”

Matt laughs, low and bitter as he gives a small shrug. The fingers around his shoulder tighten again in a small measure of comfort and he feels Keith's nose trace against his temple.

“Right. Eventually I'll move on to someone else that doesn't love me?”

A small noise of protest against his hairline is all the warning he gets before he's pulled bodily into a warm lap, arms wrapping around him in a hug. Part of him wants to squirm away like a petulant child, but the larger part sinks into the peace of Keith's hold as a chin hooks over his shoulder.

“Some day you'll have someone you love that will appreciate you like you deserve.” Keith's tone is certain as he plants a kiss on Matt's jaw. “Until then, you know you'll always have me.”

Something burns in the back of Matt's throat as he swallows and tucks his head back into the warmth of the chest behind him. He reaches down to tangle their fingers together, making Keith's scarred knuckles twitch where they wrap around his waist. The quiet of the night drags on, measured by the chirping of the crickets and the heartbeat against his back. It's the same blurry sky, but now it's less empty... less painful.

“You know...” He squeezes the fingers between his own and presses his head back harder, tipping to catch a glimpse of Keith's strong jaw, lips quirked up into a curious smile as he waits for Matt to finish. “You'll always have me too, until Shiro pulls his head out of his ass and sees what's right in front of him.”

Keith tenses slightly before huffing a laugh and burying his face in the back of Matt's neck. “It would be okay if he didn't.” Matt can feel the hard swallow as Keith mumbles into his shirt. “I don't need anything more than either of you are willing to give.”

Something tugs in Matt's chest at the resigned tone and he twists in Keith's lap to cup his face. Thick lashes shade his downcast eyes, only looking up when Matt's thumb traces over his cheekbone.

“He'll come around.” He tries to force as much certainty into the words as he can and prays for a meteor of insight to strike Shiro down. The corner of Keith's mouth lifts and one shoulder shrugs, clearly trying not to get his hopes up. Matt's heart clenches a little more for him, his own heartache feeling a little superficial now. He knocks the underside of Keith's pointy chin with his knuckle and wiggles his eyebrows, gesturing down to his own body with a flourish. “Until then you get this four course meal anyway.”

Strong arms crush a wheeze out of him as Keith throws his head back and cackles, squeezing Matt to his chest and tipping their chair back.

“You're such a fucking idiot...”

Keith grins down at him, wrinkling his nose as he presses a kiss solidly to Matt's smirk. Sandy hair flicks at him in response as Matt sniffs with a wounded air – though he doesn't mind being called an idiot if it gets the melancholy look off his best friend's face. He cracks an eye open to shoot Keith a withering look, nose still in the air.

“Well, you're fucking an idiot, so what does that make you?”

The only response he gets is another smiling kiss and the tightening of arms around his ribs, which leads to a few more easy kisses... and then there's a tongue in his mouth and hands sliding under the back of his shirt to grip his waist as he rolls his hips down. Hands tangle into dark hair on their own and pull lightly, exposing a long column of neck that Matt gleefully sucks marks onto as the body below his writhes.

As far as distractions from his foul mood goes, this is pretty good.

Keith clamps onto his hips and drags Matt down as he rolls upward, pulling moans that echo into the darkness from them both. Their gasping sounds and groans as they grind together drown out the thumping of the party behind them - soon followed by the slick sound of Keith's hand wrapped around them both, smearing the beading precum down their shafts as Matt whimpers in his lap. Lean thighs squeeze against Keith's as Matt wraps a hand around the back of his neck and bounces, thrusting his hips up into Keith's fist and sliding their tips together with every stroke. His cock is drooling now as they slide together easily, Keith's calloused hand the perfect kind of rough around him to twist on the upstroke and wrench a high stuttering cry from his throat. One bruising hand releases his hip to snag the end of his ponytail and tug, ripping a cry from him as heat sears through him. His own hands scrabble at Keith's chest, shoving shirt and jacket up as the bubbling arousal crests in his gut. Another yank to his hair pulls a gasp out of his Matt as Keith growls up at him.

“Look at me when you scream my name, baby.”

Matt's eyes snap open, unable to disobey as Keith's predatory stare locks on him, looking for all the world like he's going to eat him alive, and that's all it takes for him to shout Keith's name as he splatters his release all over tense abs. Keith groans underneath him and leans forward to sink his teeth into the crook of Matt's neck, muffling a curse as he jerks between them. Matt yelps, post-orgasmic bliss interrupted by the toothy menace and flails at his neck as he slumps into Keith's chest, sticking them together with a wet smack that has them both giggling instantly.

“You're a fucking vampire!” He leans back and smears a hand down the exposed abs, drawing a little smiley face in the cum as Keith trembles with laughter beneath him.

“Sorry! I was gonna yell...”

Matt rolls his eyes, unconvinced that he needed to be chomped on for that when the bass from the other side of the door is loud enough that it rumbles their chair. If anybody had come looking for them they would have had far more to worry about than a little bit of eavesdropped moaning. Struggling off Keith's lap with half-done pants, Matt staggers to his feet and wipes a hand down his own stomach, flicking it off onto the patio with a laugh as Keith grimaces up at him.

“You're the one who started it.” Matt's tone is unsympathetic as Keith pouts down at his sticky abs and smears the face into a frown. “I was happy to be miserable out here by myself all night.”

Keith shrugs in response and tugs his hoodie and shirt off to wipe down his stomach as he stands, not bothering to do his pants back up as he tucks himself in and grabs his beer bottle.

“Well, misery loves company, right?”

Matt can't help but chuckle as he grabs his own and clinks them together, taking a long pull before turning to head back inside. He gets about one step and nearly jumps out of his skin.

Shiro is standing on the other side of the door, one hand pressed to the glass and looking utterly shell shocked. The bottle in his hand is trembling as his eyes dart from Matt's unkempt hair and bitten up neck to Keith's shirtless, cum smeared torso and unzipped pants. His jaw works uselessly as an oblivious Keith comes up behind Matt, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing an obnoxiously messy kiss against his cheek. Matt can't stop the disgusted cackle that bursts out of him as he shoves at Keith's face, turning back to the door in time to watch a little piece of Shiro's mask crack.

 _Good_.

Maybe it will be the kick in the ass he needs to realize that Keith is someone precious he could lose. Raising an eyebrow at the specter in the door, he turns and plants one hand on the back of Keith's neck and the other on his exposed hip, drawing him in flush to murmur against his lips.

“Round two upstairs?”

The answering groan and nip at his bottom lip is all he needs to lace their fingers together and lead him to the door, sliding it open and breezing past Shiro's best impression of a statue with a nod as Keith stutters and blushes behind him.

“Less talking, more walking, Kitten.” Matt throws a look back over his shoulder, licking his bottom lip and letting his gaze linger on the open fly of Keith's jeans. “I'm ready for dessert.”

Two wheezed breaths squeak out behind him as he marches up the stairs, wicked grin firmly in place as he hears sputtered goodbyes and scrambled footsteps following.

Misery loves company indeed.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Company You Keep (The Good Company Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142131) by [Kika988](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kika988/pseuds/Kika988)




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